


Watcher Mine

by PeroxidePirate



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2010-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeroxidePirate/pseuds/PeroxidePirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leaving Sunnydale, Buffy struggles to move on. Xander helps her deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Three days from Sunnydale, headed east, and the bus has pulled off the highway for the night. They raided the sporting goods store before it all went down; after so many weeks crowded into Buffy's house, the tent village they erect every night is a luxury.

The new slayers -- and Andrew, their adopted brother -- stay up late, talking over the battle again and again, processing the fact that they've survived their first apocalypse, grieving for those who didn't. They camp 3 or 4 to a tent, but mostly they sleep on the bus, during the day, when there's no privacy to be had. At night their voices carry through the darkness, but they pretend each tent is its own world. Night by night they relax; they remember how to smile.

Dawn and Buffy share one side of a two-room tent, Giles and Xander the other. All of them are alone with their grief. They know something the new slayers don't: the more apocalypses you survive, the harder they get. The less you can believe there isn't another one already gearing up.

Two small tents are pitched a hundred yards from the rest, but you can still hear the screams. In the morning they return -- Faith and Robin, Willow and Kennedy -- as tired as everybody else, but happier, because they're able to forget. Faith and Willow have taken charge of the group -- which seems to be heading for Cleveland -- with helpful advice from Giles and Robin, endless criticism from Kennedy, and exasperated eye-rolling from Dawn.

It's long past dark -- late enough that the whole camp seems to be asleep -- when Buffy steals out of her tent. She's exhausted whether she sleeps or not, and Dawn's concern is stifling. She knows Dawn is grieving too; for her friend Amanda, for Spike, and for the people she's lost before, including Buffy herself. Buffy should be the good sister, but truth is, she can't see past her own pain. She loved Spike and didn't know until it was too late.

At the top of a little hill is a seated figure, male, and by process of elimination, Buffy figures it must be Xander.

"Hi." She sits down beside him, careful not to come up on his blind side.

"Buffy."

"You should get some sleep," she says.

"You too," he answers.

She shrugs. "I needed to get out. Be alone for a while, you know?"

"Right. Here's Buffy, all alone." He's teasing her, smiling in that self-depreciating way.

Buffy takes his hand. "You know what I mean." She can be around Xander when everyone else drives her crazy, and touching him is something she barely realizes she's doing. Maybe because he needs her exactly as much as she needs him.

They sit together, holding hands but not talking, watching the stars and listening to the crickets chirp.

"Uuuuughn!" A cry shatters the still night air, and Buffy and Xander both jump before they realize it's coming from one of the distant tents.

"Faith," Buffy says.

"Do they _never_ stop?" Xander wonders.

"They survived the end of the world together." Buffy's voice is quietly wistful, and Xander finds himself blushing. Remembering how two years ago, he and Anya got through their grief the way Faith and Robin are getting through now.

It's too much, Buffy's hand in his while he's drowning in those memories, and Xander tries to let go. But she's hanging on with slayer strength. "Buffy?"

She takes a deep breath, and he realizes she's crying. "Oh, hell." He wraps both arms around her, and she lays her head on his shoulder and sobs and sobs. It's the first time he's seen or heard her cry since they left what was once Sunnydale. He rests a hand on the back of her head, and says, "I know. I know. I know," over and over.

At last the sobbing gives way to snuffling, and then she sits up and wipes her eyes. "And how come I never get to have the great, intense, post-apocalyptic sex, anyway?" she wonders.

Xander peers at her. "Never?"

"Never."

He tries to go through the apocalypses they've averted -- there are so many. "But there was-- that is-- that time-- _never?"_

Buffy shakes her head. "Never. I leave, or he leaves, or I die, or he dies. Sometimes there's dying _and_ leaving, all at the same time."

Xander whistles. "Buff, that's a crying shame."

"Tell me about it."

Then Xander's guy-brain takes over. He rests one hand flat on her back, and says, "Well, if you want to see what it's like--"

"Xander!" She pushes him away.

"I'm sorry," he says, sheepishly. "I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did."

He sighs. "Ok, I did. But only because... you're my friend... and maybe we both deserve something nice."

She smiles, forgiving him instantly. "That's sweet, Xander." Then it's her turn to be self-depreciating. "But if you want nice sex, you'll _definitely_ have to find someone else."

"Well... maybe I don't."

They stare at one another in the moonlight, eyes wide with wonder, and their perceptions of each other almost palpably shift. He has always been Mr. Regular; the comfortable, normal one. She has been Buffy the Good, on a pedestal neither Anya nor anyone else could quite reach.

Things have changed.

Buffy's lips part, and Xander leans in. They kiss. Bodies pressed together, they tear at each other's clothes. Buffy knocks Xander back onto the ground, her thighs on either side of his hips. He arches beneath her, hands under her pajama top, and she gasps. She would have thought she'd be thinking of Spike -- she's always thinking of Spike -- but she's so surprised by what's happening that all her attention is focused on the man she's with right now. When she looks in his one eye, she knows he feels the same.

It isn't romantic or pretty sex, and you could never call it making love. There are a few moments when Buffy grabs or pushes too hard; when she forgets he's only human, and he cries out in pain. But Xander's surprisingly ready to fight back, to spank and pinch, and they both leave their share of bruises. Mostly, it works. It's wild and dirty and fierce, it feels good, and for a while they both forget the emotional pain of the last few days and all the tension of the weeks before.

They lie side by side in the dust, afterwards, until Buffy begins to shiver in the night air. "Wish we had some blankets," she says.

Xander blinks himself out of a contented half-sleep. "I could go back to the tent and get our sleeping bags."

"Don't. You might wake up Giles and Dawn."

"You don't want them to know...?"

She smiles wryly. "I don't want them to say 'I told you so.'"

"Did they? Tell you so?"

"Not out loud. But I can pretty much tell... they both thought we needed this."

He raises his eyebrows, and she sees that his eyepatch is twisted so it sits next to his ear. "And?"

"And I hate it when they're right." Carefully, she shifts the patch back into place, fingertips brushing his eyebrow.

He chuckles, and he smells like _life,_ and his arms are warm and strong around her shoulders. "Then we'll have to keep warm out here."

She plays the game, nuzzling into his chest. "How are we going to do that?"

"I can think of two ways. One of them is to get dressed."

She frowns, mock-serious. "Not liking that idea."

"The other one..."

"Yes?"

"The other one, I'd have to show you." He moves his head closer to hers, closer, closer, until his lips touch hers. This kiss is long and gentle, even sweet.

This time they make love.

They make love, and it's nice, and comforting, and Buffy realizes she's not thinking of Xander at all. When she looks up at him, his eye is closed. And then she notices that she's crying again.

She cries silently this time, with sorrow and then with pleasure and then with sorrow again, without stopping in between. He keeps his eye closed until his body stills, and only then does he look down and see her tears.

"I'm sorry," she says, avoiding his eyes.

He slides off her, but doesn't let go. "For what?"

"I'm doing it wrong. Post-apocalyptic sex... it's supposed to be better than being lonely. It's supposed to give you something good to think about, and here I am, crying, remember my -- somebody -- who died."

"You're doing it exactly right." He kisses her forehead. "You can't forget for very long. But you shouldn't have to remember alone."

She ponders for a minute.

"Anya. You and Anya -- that summer -- you had sex and then talked about ... me?"

He shrugs. "We missed you." He looks very tired, suddenly, and kind of old.

"You never stopped being in love with her, did you?" she asks softly.

"Never."

Buffy tries to collect her thoughts. She might not be able to help herself, but maybe she can help Xander. "I think she'd understand... what just happened. I know you still love her. This--" she takes his hand, squeezes his fingers in hers. "This is solace."

He inhales sharply on the last word. "You're right." He sits up. "She always said she didn't understand humans, but she did. She understood pain, and loneliness, and sorrow... she understood emotions better than anybody I've ever met."

"I know."

They're silent for a while, Xander sitting with his arms draped over his knees and Buffy lying on her back, looking up at the stars. Then she asks, "Do you think Spike would understand?"

Xander resists the urge to roll his eyes -- ok, eye. "He'd wonder why you picked me. But yeah, I think he'd get it."

"He didn't even believe I loved him." Her voice is sad, and seeing Xander's quizzical expression, she continues. "I didn't know until he was dying. And then I realized I was about to lose him... and I told him. I told him I loved him. He said, 'No you don't, but thanks for saying it.' Then he told me to go... and I went."

Xander brushes the hair back from Buffy's face. "He knew. He must have known before you did. He wouldn't have stayed if he didn't."

Buffy sits up, scowling. "He stayed because we needed him. We all needed him."

"He didn't know that. None of us did, until the battle started." He grips both of Buffy's shoulders, holding her so she can't look away. "He stayed because you, Buffy Summers, needed him. Not to fight at your side -- Faith, or Robin, or Kennedy could have done that -- but so you could sleep at night, and so you'd be able to get up in the morning. So you'd have a reason to keep living."

"And that's love?"

"That's love."

She gives him a sad smile and a gentle punch on the shoulder. "How'd you get so wise?"

He drops his hands, shaking his head. "I'm not wise. I just see what goes on around me." He gestures toward his eyepatch. "Well, on my right side, anyway."

Buffy laughs, then turns serious again. "I want you to be my watcher."

He blinks. This is the first time in the last three days that she's shown any interest in slayer-y concepts. "Giles is your watcher."

"Not anymore. No, listen to me. As far as we know, Giles is the only surviving member of the Watchers' Council, and that means he's the one who has to be in charge of the new Council. And there are almost twenty new slayers -- that we know of, there could be two or three times that many -- who need more training. They need Giles way more than I do." She holds his gaze, all business. "Every slayer should still have a watcher of her own. Xander, I want you."

She said the same words an hour ago, but her meaning now is completely different. He nods, understanding perfectly. "Anything you need, Buffy. Just ask."

They get dressed as the sun comes up, and walk back to camp together.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn's fixing breakfast at a camp stove next to the bus. Buffy and Xander aren't touching when they come into view, but even so, Dawn takes one look at them and squeaks. "Finally!" she squeals.

Xander shrugs, and Buffy just smiles.

"Buffy, I'm so happy! You'll be okay, and I'm moving into Vi's tent _tonight_ and--"

"Dawn, slow down."

"I think..." Xander's talking to Dawn but looking at Buffy. ".... that this was a limited engagement."

Buffy nods, emphatically. "He's right. We... helped each other through some stuff... but that's all. But you can still move, if you want. I really will be okay."

Giles appears from the direction of their tent. "I'm glad to hear that." He gives Buffy the indulgent smile he reserves just for her. Then he catches Xander's eye, coughs, and begins to clean his glasses. From Giles, this amounts to approval.

During this exchange, Willow and Kennedy wander up to the kitchen area. Willow just raises her eyebrows and smiles a witchy smile, but doesn't say a word; Kennedy is plainly not fully awake yet, leaning on Willow with her eyes half closed.

Dawn hands out cups of coffee to all present, while Buffy looks around the assembled circle of her friends. "Look, can we talk business for a minute?"

She focuses on Giles, but it's Willow who answers. "Maybe we should wait for Faith..?"

"I'll fill her in later. We're going to Cleveland, yes?"

Willow nods. "Hellmouth."

"Okay. Are we _staying_ in Cleveland?" That gets a bunch of blank stares. "Right. Nobody's thought that far yet. Giles and Willow, you guys find out if we should. Use magic, books, internet, whatever we have, whatever it takes. Remember we have a couple dozen new slayers with very little training, an unknown number of new slayers out there who don't even know what's just happened to them, and no Watchers' Council to speak of. We have to deal with all these problems, in addition to whatever the demon world may throw at us."

"Right," Willow says.

Giles just nods, all but glowing with fatherly pride.

"Dawn, you and Andrew are research assistants. You help Willow and Giles with whatever they need, whether it's looking stuff up, or helping with spells, or carrying books, or even making tea." Dawn nods in agreement, and Buffy turns to Willow. "If they fight, split them up. Don't let Andrew complain: we have work to do, and if he doesn't like it, he's welcome to stay behind at the next town.

"Kennedy, you and Faith are in charge of training the rest of the slayers."

Kennedy blinks, seeming to wake up at last. "Look, it's cute how she's the _other_ original slayer, but she doesn't even--"

Willow interrupts, placing a calming hand on Kennedy's arm. "Buffy, I don't think that's such a good idea. I don't know if you've noticed, but they don't exactly get along that well..."

"Make it a competition!" Dawn suggests. "Divide up the slayers, Kennedy's group versus Faith's. Who can kick the most butt."

This gets grins from both Buffy and Kennedy. "Ok." Buffy draws herself up to her full five feet of height and looks Kennedy in the eye. "But you have to run your plans by me or Giles before you start. And if it gets too fierce, it's over, and you'll have to work together."

"Deal," Kennedy says.

"Good." Buffy moves on, speaking to the group at large. "Xander's agreed to be my watcher -- every slayer should have a watcher of her own. Someone she can trust to look out for her, to see the things she can't see. Someone who will make her look at things from all sides, and then back her up no matter what she decides."

Xander doesn't say anything, but he's clearly embarrassed by the indirect praise Buffy is heaping upon him.

She continues. "I don't know where we're going to find 20 people like that, so Xander, I want you and Robin to start looking. Talk to Giles about the old Watcher's Council, find out what worked and what didn't. See if there's any chance any of them may have survived. Think about how you're going to recruit and train new watchers."

Xander coughs. "Did you just say... _I'm_ going to recruit and train watchers?"

"I said that." Buffy takes a step toward him, touching his arm, closing everyone else out. "I told you before, there's _too much_ for Giles to do all of the watcher-y stuff. But you've been my watcher for years -- you've done all the stuff a watcher does -- even if you weren't called that. You can do this."

"Buffy, I--"

"Wow, what did I miss?" Faith saunters into the camp kitchen with her usual aplomb. Xander manages to play it cool, but Buffy looks at Faith with the irritation only she can inspire. Faith cackles. "It's about time, B." She punches Buffy's shoulder.

Robin makes his way over from the tent. "What happened?"

Faith grins, cocking her head toward Buffy and Xander. "West of the Mississippi. You owe me ten bucks."

"What, there's no evil to fight so you're betting on my sex life!?" Buffy exclaims. "Who else is in? Come on, it's show time--"

"Buffy, relax." Willow lays a hand on Buffy's back, directing her away from the group. "You guys fill Faith and Robin in..." she calls over her shoulder, and gets nods of agreement from Giles and Dawn.

On the far side of Buffy's tent, Willow sits them both down. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Buffy shakes her head.

"Ok, then you have to listen. Buffy, what happened back there in Sunnydale was some serious shit. It was hard, it was scary, and we lost people we really cared about. But you have to get through it. Sooner or later, you have to remember that the world is more than just pain... otherwise you end up trying to destroy it."

"I wasn't going to..."

"I know." Willow squeezes Buffy's hand. "So you're doing better than I was. But if you can't see past the pain, you might end up trying to destroy _yourself._ And you and Xander couldn't see past it... we were _worried,_ Buff. We all were. You both needed help, and it seemed to make sense for you to help each other."

Buffy holds her head in her hands. "We didn't, though. Not really. It won't happen again... and we spent half the night talking. About Anya. About Spike."

"And before last night... did you even talk about it? The battle? Spike? Any of it?"

"No." Buffy's voice is very soft.

"Then it did help." Willow pushes her hair back behind her ears. "Grief sucks, Buffy. It's slow, and miserable, and it keeps coming back. I still talk about Tara... and Kennedy talks about her grandmother... and it never feels like it helps enough, but it does help, slowly, a little at a time."

Buffy looks up. "How do you know it's getting better when it still hurts?"

"You listen to your friends." Willow fixes her with a steady gaze. "I know that for three days I saw my best friend hurting so much that she was nothing, and nothing could touch her. This morning, I saw The Slayer walk into that campsite and make more sense of things in ten minutes than Faith and Giles and I did in three days. And now my best friend is listening to me. So something must be getting better."

"She's right." Xander comes up behind the tent, giving Buffy a lopsided smile. "And as your watcher, I strongly suggest that you stop sulking and come eat some breakfast." Then he shrugs. "Of course, as my slayer, you are perfectly free to listen to what I'm telling you, and then do nothing but sulk for the next week, and I will support your decision."

This gets a full-fledged grin from Buffy. "I'm going to regret making you my watcher, aren't I?"

"Definitely," say Xander and Willow, in unison.

"But since you're obligated to back me up... let's go."

They head back to the kitchen area, Buffy a step ahead of the other two.

Willow grins at Xander. "It's so cute how she thinks she's in charge."

"I heard that!" Buffy calls.

Xander grins back. "She's cute anyway."

Buffy turns around, half irritated and half not. "Hello? Professional relationship, now."

"Did she say 'professional' when she was talking about what makes a good watcher?" Xander asks.

"I didn't hear the word 'professional,'" Willow reassures him.

Buffy sighs. "You mean you weren't listening?"

"I thought you were supposed to listen to me," Xander answers.

Buffy rolls her eyes, as they return to camp. "Giles! I think I've made a terrible mistake."

Giles looks at the three of them over his teacup, and he slowly smiles. "I don't think you have, Buffy. The world may not be doomed after all."

Buffy looks around at her supporters: Dawn standing, hands on hips, lecturing Andrew about the responsibilities he's just been assigned. Faith and Kennedy, dividing the new slayers between their opposing teams, with the slayers arguing every step of the way. Robin, sitting with Giles and browsing old Watchers' Diaries, pondering the future of watchers and slayers. And her two best friends, standing behind her, ready to literally back her up, come what may... and keep her from taking herself too seriously as they go along.

She smiles. "Maybe not."


End file.
